


i think the story needs more pages

by byakuyasama



Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: Angry Sex, F/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Rough Sex, its just not verbalized, luciel is Upset(tm), please get him therapy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-08
Updated: 2020-04-08
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:27:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23539099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/byakuyasama/pseuds/byakuyasama
Summary: Luciel does everything he can to push you away, but you've always been stubborn.Things escalate.
Relationships: 707 | Choi Luciel/Main Character
Comments: 3
Kudos: 221





	i think the story needs more pages

**Author's Note:**

> haaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa  
> ok big shoutout to lexie i would NOT hve gotten this done otherwise  
> uhm i love 707 ok hes very complicated  
> please leave comments!

"I don't care about your feelings, alright?!"

You flinch involuntarily, taking a small step back as the man before you recoils from his outburst. A stillness fills the room, tense and silent, nearly suffocating you with unsaid thoughts and feelings, discouraged from being voiced. You muster the courage to glance at the other and meet his eyes in a desperate moment, searching for solace, hoping to find coax even the subtlest of apologies; instead, the gaze is met with certain unease.

Oh.

Realization hits you like a ton of bricks and before you can even register it, you’re taking a step forward, ignoring the fire in his eyes and grasping at something just beneath the surface.

“What are you doing?” Luciel snaps, voice wavering with uncertainty.

You ignore his question, taking another step until your hand reaches out, gently, and rests against his chest, “Why are you so scared?” it’s no louder than a whisper, but the question seems echo in the dim apartment.

Luciel falters, stumbling over his words as he collects a response. For a moment, you wonder if he’s going to crack, if he’ll surrender the fear and anguish bottled inside and let you in. But the fire lights his eyes again, sparking with newfound intensity as the corners of his mouth twitch into a scowl. The juxtaposition of such fiery anger coupled with a frigid demeanor only further speaks to the enigma that is the man before you, the man you so desperately want to understand.

You’re given no further luxury of entertaining such thoughts before he’s grabbing your wrist and pinning you back against the closet door.

“I told you to stop trying to get close to me.” He bites out, his presence caging you against the wall. 

You wrack your brain for a reply, something quick-witted enough to deter his growing anger, but you’re too slow. Without even time to register, his lips are on yours, rough and insistent, shoving you up against the wall. The kiss isn’t exactly romantic; there’s too much tongue and teeth and very little focus on technique, but what’s lacking in skill is compensated by an eager, desperate passion. Luciel’s actions seem to grow even more forceful and determined, his hand grabbing the back of your beck and coaxing you deeper.

Hoping to break for air, you attempt to pull away, to which the other catches your bottom lip between his teeth, biting hard enough for you to gasp in pain. He wastes no time taking advantage of your open mouth, slipping his tongue against yours. The embrace is sloppy, but any attempt at a coherent thought is fleeting, and you find yourself melting against him. You move to wrap your arms around his neck, but Luciel is faster, sliding an arm around your lower back and hoisting you clumsily onto the bed.

You had barely made contact with the mattress before he was on you again, eyes dark and clouded with desire. Luciel halts momentarily as his gaze washes over you, drinking in the sight before him. And what a sight it was; your chest rising and falling in tune with a heavy heart beat, cheeks flushed a deep red, and hair sprawled out against the pillow. Everything has escalated so fast, you were truly coming undone at his touch. The redhead nearly groans, frustrated yet incredibly turned on, his already thin patience slipping through his fingers.

“T’ch.” He clicks his tongue in irritation and leans in again, brushing his lips against your neck and sucking harshly.

It becomes clear that Luciel isn’t planning on wasting any time, his hands keeping busy by slipping underneath your shirt. Nimble fingers make quick work of your bra strap, tugging it off to leave your torso bare and exposed. Awareness sweeps over you all at once, arms moving instinctually to cover your chest, to preserve your vulnerability.

“W-Wait-” You start, hesitant, but it falls on deaf ears.

His larger hands grab your wrists, pulling them from your chest in one swift movement, revealing yourself to his hungry stare.

“I told you not to get involved with me.” he bites out, angry and bitter, before squeezing your breasts roughly, relishing in your shocked moan. 

Your cries spur him further, taking your left nipple between two fingers ang giving it a harsh tug. He simply watches, the fire in his eyes belying his otherwise icy composure.

“Isn’t this what you wanted?” he asked, mocking, and twisted the pink nub again. Kneading the flesh of your breast between his fingers, his lips graze over your chest, teeth scraping against the sensitive skin.

Whines alternate between pain and pleasure, deep red and purple bruises blooming on an otherwise unblemished canvas, hickeys and bite marks littering your torso, marking you. Luciel pulls back, hardness straining against his pants with the knowledge that these marks won’t fade quickly; that he’ll be more than just a fleeting memory.

“Ah, I can’t take it anymore.” The words slip out like an afterthought, and hands slide under your skirt, gripping your thighs and flipping you onto your stomach.

“Luciel…” you whimper, the cry dripping with lust, fingers curling into the bedsheets. You arch your back, thighs trembling slightly, propping your ass up to give him the best view.

Hearing you say his name with that much need, coupled with such an obscene pose, signals farewell to the last of his patience. You glance over your shoulder to catch a glimpse of the man behind you, knowing your actions had the exact intended effect. Luciel’s composure is gone, his movements eager and desperate as he fumbles with his belt, tugging his boxers down just enough to free his arousal.

He groans when his cock hits the cool air, taking his length in his hand and leaning over you. One hand slides up your thigh, pushing your soaked panties aside, while the other aligns his cock with your entrance. A passing thought chides you for the lack of preparation, knowing what comes next will likely hurt, but reason is a distant memory.

The only warning before his intrusion is a hand on the back of your neck, pushing your face into the mattress as he buries himself in your heat.

“Tight.” he notes through clenched teeth, ignoring your pained gasp and sheathing himself entirely inside you. Luciel meant to give you time to adjust, he really did, but feeling you squeeze around his cock made it impossible to stay still for long. There was no rationalizing anymore and with one hand gripping your neck firmly, he pulls out and sinks back in, hammering into you.

Pain and pleasure melt together in a single sensation that leaves you breathless and whining for more. You arch your back desperately, trying to push your hips back to meet his in a desperate act of submission. Luciel seems just as far gone as you, breathing ragged and uneven, his hips slamming frantically against yours, chasing his own release. Given the intensity of his grip, you’re sure there will be finger-shaped bruises on your hip tomorrow.

His pace is almost brutal, unyielding, and you find yourself relent under his touch, allowing him to do the work as he stretches you full. He’s reaching so deep inside of you, you’re practically seeing stars, a complete writhing mess beneath him as he pounds his hips against yours. The smack of skin hitting skin fills the room along with your wanton cries, every single one of your senses overwhelmed by Luciel’s presence; and his with yours.

Strong fingers grip your thigh, coaxing them wider apart, letting him fill you even deeper, stretch you even wider. Your moans grow louder and more desperate, only further encouraging Luciel’s harsh pace. Luciel sneaks a hand around your inner thigh, gently tracing your clit, and within seconds your vision goes white with pleasure, thighs shaking, his cock stuffing you full and hitting all the right places within you. 

The redhead swears under his breath, your pussy practically milking his cock with your orgasm, the pressure and heat tipping him over the edge. His movements become erratic, none of the precision or feigned control he’d worked so hard to maintain. Leaning forward, his teeth sink into the soft flesh where your neck meets the shoulder, before forcing himself back inside your heat and burying himself as deep as he can, thick white ropes of cum painting your insides.

Luciel pauses for a moment before pulling out, admiring how his release dripped from your entrance and coated your upper thighs. He knows he fucked up, that this cannot be undone, but stands up wordlessly, fetching a glass of water and placing it next to you on the nightstand. You open your mouth to say something, nervous hands fumbling for the glass, but he beats your two it. Like always.

“I’m getting back to work.” he mumbles, almost ashamedly, and you watch as he quickly dresses himself. It’s a side of him entirely unfamiliar; not his cold, hostile exterior nor the cheerful 707 you knew in the chatroom. 

No, this Luciel is vulnerable. Nervous, impulsive, and afraid. Your eyes catch his for a second, and you can see clearly now, a wordless plea reaches you.


End file.
